Spin
by RileysMomma
Summary: Little did Katie Mathews know that she didn't need the luck of a coke bottle to kiss a certain greasy hood. One-Shot.


Curly Shepard walked into the back room, having reluctantly agreed to check out the game of spin the bottle. It was a kids' game, one he wasn't about to play. It wasn't worth running the risk of having to kiss some ugly chick to maybe get to kiss the one chick there you might actually be willing to kiss. Besides, Curly Shepard playing spin the bottle just wasn't going to happen. How would that look for his rep? He should be able to get any girl he wanted. Taking a swig from his beer bottle, he looked around the room and was about to make some snide comment about the girls in the game until his eyes landed on the last person he'd ever expected to see: Katie Mathews.

_What the hell is she doing?_ he thought to himself, his temper flaring white-hot at the sight of her sitting at the far side of the circle near that homely chick Molly something or other that she hung out with. Something clicked in his brain: that Molly chick must have dragged her into it. His temper cooled – just slightly – until he saw Chris Lyons checking her out from his spot on the other side of the circle. _Oh hell no,_ he thought, watching Chris reach for the bottle. _Ain't no way any of these assholes are kissing Katie Mathews, especially not before I do._

He shoved his way into the room, earning a few protests from people who got in his way - at least until they saw the murderous look in his eyes. By the time he reached the edge of the circle, Katie's cheeks had gone bright red and when he met her eyes she looked like she wanted to crawl under the floorboards. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that but he didn't think it was a bad thing.

She was mortified. She was going to kill Molly for dragging her into the game; there wasn't even a single guy there that she would kiss if she had any choice in the matter. And now Curly Shepard had seen her playing a stupid game with stupid kids. _God, he's never going to look at me twice after this,_ she thought miserably. _I swear I'm going to kill Molly._ She felt her cheeks go red with embarrassment and when she met his eyes a moment later she wished more than anything that she could just disappear. She wasn't quite sure what to make of the look he was giving her; all she knew was that it couldn't be good. She watched in surprise as he pushed his way through the room and stopped at the edge of the circle, taking the empty coke bottle away from that creepy Chris guy that Molly had a crush on and smacking him upside the back of the head. Her eyes widened in shock when he looked her right in the eye, bent down and placed the bottle back on the floor, pointing it right at her.

He wasn't entirely sure whether the look on her face when he pointed the bottle at her was good or bad but at the moment he didn't care. All that mattered was that he had gotten her out of that game before one of those assholes had a chance to kiss her. He'd figure out what the look meant later – after he got her the hell out of there.

She didn't know what to think. She was surprised – and more than a little confused – by the determined look on his face when he pointed the bottle at her. The room had gotten quiet when Curly stepped into the circle but now there were low grumblings from around the room. No one was dumb enough to actually say anything to him; well, no one but that creepy Chris guy.

"You can't do that, Shepard," Chris said, his irritation obvious in his voice. Katie never took her eyes from Curly but could see the other boy just behind him in the background, rubbing the back of his head irritably as he gave Curly a dirty look.

"I just did, Lyons," Curly told him, his eyes still locked on Katie. "Seems to me like you're the only one having a problem with it. You got a problem with it, Mathews?"

Katie felt her cheeks flush but managed to shake her head "no".

"You ain't even in the game, Shepard," Chris protested again, his indignation growing.

Curly shook his head, making a mental note to beat the hell out of Lyons later. Katie arched her brow at him and he gave her a cocky grin in return.

"I don't play games, Lyons," he said, slowly moving closer to Katie until he was standing right in front of her. "How 'bout you, Mathews? You play games?"

She was half afraid her heart was going to pound right through her chest with every inch he moved closer. She bit the inside of her lower lip and shook her head again. He was close enough that she could smell him – a combination of leather, cologne, and cigarettes – and see the slight twinkle in his eye when she shook her head "no" again.

He nodded and held his hand out to her, fighting to keep the grin off his face when she took it without hesitation. Instead he nodded at her and pulled her up to her feet, linking his fingers with hers before pulling her across the room and back through the crowd.

She didn't bother looking back over her shoulder to see how people reacted to what had just happened. There was no need; she knew Molly would be calling her the next morning to find out what had happened with Curly and to tell her what had happened after she left. She had to quicken her pace a bit to keep up with his long strides and she silently cursed herself for being so short. She couldn't exactly see where he was taking her; all she could see was the broad back of his black leather jacket and his rear end in his faded tight blue jeans but she wasn't about to complain about the view.

It took Curly a minute to figure out where to take her once they were out of the back room. His first instinct – finding an empty bedroom upstairs – was out of the question; he didn't want to scare her off. Instead he pulled her out the front door and around the side of the house, fairly certain they'd have at least a little privacy out there. He pulled her around in front of him, backing her up until her back was against the side of the house, but never let go of her hand.

Her heart was still pounding in her chest, a pounding that only seemed to get worse the closer he got to her. She looked up at him, noticing the way his black curls shone in the moonlight, waiting for him to say something to her. He was looking at her, a strange look on his face, and it was driving her nuts making her wonder what he was thinking.

He had to be crazy. There was no other explanation for the wild range of feelings he'd run through since he'd first walked into the room and seen her sitting there in the circle with that bunch of assholes. Just thinking about the possibilities was enough to make his blood boil all over again.

"What the hell were you doing in there?" he snapped, cringing inwardly when he heard the sharpness of his own tone. He wanted to kick himself when she flinched at his question. _Nice one, Shepard._

"Playing spin the bottle," she snapped, rolling her eyes at him like he was stupid for having to ask for an explanation of the obvious. She regretted it almost immediately when he scowled at her.

"You're a smartass, aren't you?" he asked, forcing himself to give her a dirty look when he really wanted to laugh. There weren't many girls who would mouth off to him like that, especially not after he'd spoken to them in that tone. God he liked her. "A smartass just like that brother of yours."

She narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a dirty look of her own and folding her arms across her chest.

"So let me rephrase my question, smartass," he said, trying to ignore how damned cute she was when she was mad - as well as the fact that the way she'd folded her arms across her chest was giving him a really nice view. "Why were you playing spin the bottle?"

She wasn't quite sure, but she thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting off a smile. Seeing that deflated her irritation a little but not quite enough to leave her willing to answer him. _Who does he think he is?_

"How is that any of your business?" she asked, arching her brow at him as she leaned against the side of the house behind her.

He growled in frustration at her answering his question with a question of her own and balled his fists to keep himself from doing something stupid.

Her mouth fell open in surprise at his reaction to her response.

"Did you seriously just growl at me?"

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists even tighter. _Goddamn this girl's got a mouth on her._ Her mouthy attitude drove him crazy but he couldn't help but wonder if she could use it for other things as well as she could pissing him off.

"Were you honestly going to let one of those greasy hoods kiss you?" he asked, putting his right hand on the side of the house and leaning against it, bringing him even closer to her face. He saw her bite her lower lip and wondered if her lips would actually feel as soft against his as he had imagined they would.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she bit her lip as she realized the source of his attitude: Curly Shepard was jealous. _Oh god … that means …_

"Do you have a problem with me kissing a greasy hood?" she asked, her voice much softer and less snappish than it had been just moments before.

He leaned closer to her, so close he could smell the faint scent of strawberries from her lip gloss. He watched as her expression softened from the irritated look she'd been wearing and he decided in that moment that he was going to do whatever it took to make her his.

"Do you always have to answer a question with a question?"

She shook her head, a small smile touching her lips.

"No, but you didn't answer my question," she said, shifting her stance a little. "Do you have a problem with me kissing a greasy hood?"

"I have a problem with you kissing one of those greasy hoods," he told her, motioning toward the house with a flick of his head.

"Just one of those greasy hoods?" she asked, her breath catching in her throat as he leaned closer to her. "Or greasy hoods in general?"

"I'd be okay with you kissing this greasy hood," he told her, leaning in to whisper the words into her ear, his hot breath tickling her cheek.

"You gonna do something about it?" she asked, her own voice barely above a whisper.

It was all the invitation he needed. He dragged his lips lazily across her jaw line until their lips met and he had the answer to the question he'd asked himself: yes; yes they did.


End file.
